


We Leave No Footprints

by Aviena



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 10:13:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5286797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aviena/pseuds/Aviena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Preston Garvey is missing presumed dead when a daring escape from supermutants goes sideways. F!SS realises she loved Preston at least as much as she does Nate - and sexy times ensue when Preston returns.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Super mutants: possibly the most terrifying creatures the end of the world had to offer. Deathclaws? Scary enough, but easy to spot from a distance and quick to lose interest in a fleeing target. Ghouls? Horrifying up close, but too stupid to make the top of Alex’s list of nightmares. Raiders? Package deals, and astonishingly cruel, but Alex’s old-world career had brought her into contact with worse.  
  
But Alex couldn’t deal with super mutants.   
  
**“HAHAHAHAHA! RUN AWAY LITTLE BLEEDER!”**  
  
And Alex did run, stumbling over rubble and scrambling desperately behind cover. She had come to the abandoned department store in search of materials to bolster Sanctuary’s defences. Preston had come with her, all smiles and bravado under that fetching cowboy hat of his, though his enthusiasm gave way to wariness as soon as they spotted the first bag of bloody meat and gore. He’d warned her then that there were safer places to scavenge, but Alex was unable to resist the call of a multi-storeyed shopping destination.   
  
Part of Alex’s motivation was purely practical, but a quiet part of her also wanted to impress the handsome Minuteman. It felt disloyal to admit her attraction to him. Nate wasn’t even buried yet. But Preston was kind, brave and strong, and  _goddamn_  he looked good in that hat.  
  
In any case, it turned out that her scavenging fantasies were pointless. The department store had been picked almost totally clean by earlier birds than she.   
  
And now they’d been spotted. Bullets whizzed over Alex’s head as she cowered behind a fallen cabinet display, the mutants’ bloodthirsty roars echoing violently in the confines of the menswear department. Alex risked a peek around the edge of her cover and nearly got a face full of lead. Her heart was in her throat and she could hardly breathe around the obstruction, but she heard herself scream anyway as a mutant hound barrelled around her meagre cover. It pounced on her eagerly, stinking jaws wide and dripping, and Alex was convinced that this was the end of her.  
  
She hoped Nate would forgive her for failing to rescue Shaun.  
  
RRAAAAARRRRRK. A laser musket blast tore through the dusty air and caught the hound mid-leap. It flew sideways, shattering Alex’s cover. She was moving before her brain really had time to register her continued existence, scrambling blindly in the direction the laser fire had come from.  
  
“Over here!” Preston called. Alex spotted him waving his hat wildly half way up a stilled escalator, and she ran as fast as her wobbly feet would carry her, heart hammering in time with the gunfire at her back. Preston lobbed a grenade over her head as she raced towards him, and at least a few mutants roared in agony when the explosion went off.  
  
**“JUST – STAY – STILL!”**  
  
“Fuck!” Alex gasped when she finally made it to the escalator, collapsing behind the metal guard rail with a newfound gratitude for 21st century safety regulations. Miraculously, she had managed to keep hold of her pistol. Alex took a deep breath, adjusted her grip on the gun and joined Preston in peppering the mutants with suppressing fire. In her mad rush for safety, she had not fully comprehended their situation. Five – no,  _six_  – super mutants dotted the shop floor below.  
  
RRAAAAARRRRRK. One of the mutants fell, only for another to emerge from a darkened corridor and take its place.   
  
“Run!” Preston called. His voice cracked with desperation. “I’ll cover you!”  
  
How characteristically gallant of him. “Like hell!”

Alex was taking a mental tally of her remaining ammunition when a seventh mutant lumbered out from behind a display and began to climb the escalator steps. It carried something underneath its arm. Something that flashed red and emitted a regular  _beep, beep, beep_.  
  
“Fuck!” Alex shouted again. “Up! Now!”  
  
Preston had seen the bomb as well. He was already moving, taking the stairs two at a time. Alex choked back a sob of fear as she followed, almost crawling up the steep incline. Thank God for all those “couples’ fitness” classes Nate had made her endure.  _Just keep breathing_ , he would have told her.  _Think how good you’ll feel afterwards._  
  
Preston was waiting at the top of the escalator to seize her hand and haul her up the last few steps. Together they bolted for the nearest exit sign, only to round a corner and find another pair of laughing mutants waiting for them. There was nothing for it but to run the other way.  
  
Preston could have outpaced her, Alex was sure. Fighting was what Minutemen did, and Preston had been doing it for years. Alex, on the other hand, was still out of shape following her pregnancy. Her thighs were burning, her heart rate was through the roof, and her arms were shaky with fear and fatigue. But Preston stayed with her, one hand on the small of her back both propelling and guiding her through the ruins.  
  
“We’re on the second floor,” he panted as they emerged into what looked to be the complex’s atrium. He’d lost his hat at some point during their mad rush, and for a brief, disconnected moment Alex hardly recognised him.  
  
Alex stumbled over to a nearby railing and peeked over the edge. “Fucking  _fuck_ ,” she whispered. More mutants. Dozens of them, camped out on the floor below as if they meant to remain there for a good long while.  
  
The whites of Preston’s eyes were showing, and he licked his lips nervously as he searched hopelessly around the atrium. His eyes eventually landed on the gaping hole at the front of the building that must once have featured decorative glass. Preston’s face hardened, and Alex didn’t like his apparent train of thought.  
  
“We can’t jump,” she hissed. “That’s got to be at least a 20 foot drop.”  
  
**“I’LL WEAR YOUR BONES AROUND MY NECK!”**  
  
_Beep, beep, beep_. They were getting closer.  
  
“No choice,” Preston whispered urgently. He moved his hand from Alex’s back to her forearm and almost dragged her towards the opening. Alex briefly resisted, looking wildly over her shoulder for some other avenue of escape. Super mutants were pouring out of the corridor behind them. The mad-eyed suicider led the pack, roaring with laughter in the pulsing light of his mini nuke.  
  
So Alex ran.  
  
It  _was_  a 20 foot drop – maybe more. Preston took up position behind a pillar immediately, cranking his laser musket frantically. Alex leaned out over the drop, light-headed with terror. There were no super mutants outside, at least. They would have a clear path to freedom –  _if_  they survived the drop. She chanced a look over her shoulder. The mutants were getting closer.  
  
“You first!” Preston shouted. RRAAAAARRRRRK. His next shot took out one of the suicider’s legs – thank God. It would buy some time. “GO!”  
  
Alex leapt. There was a moment of sick, dizzying inertia in which her bones went down but her insides wanted to stay up – and then Alex was really falling. The world whizzed by, all fire and darkness and monstrous screams. The ground – and a sickening  _crack_  – met her all too quickly. Gasping in agony and shock, Alex fumbled for a stimpak in her bag. Her eyes stayed pointed skyward, searching for Preston.  
  
“Preston! Come on!” She couldn’t see in the smoky darkness, and couldn’t hear him over the sound of screaming mutants. “Preston!”  
  
**BOOM.**  
  
The sky erupted in fire and thunder. The force of the explosion knocked Alex onto her back and she cracked her head against the pavement. For a moment, she was blind and deaf and dumb and  _scared_. The bombs were falling all over again.  
  
And Preston was up there with them.  
  
“ _Preston!_ ” She shrieked.

Alex wasn’t sure how long she lay there. Sight and sense returned to her very, very slowly, and it was longer still before the stimpak worked its magic on her fractured leg. The world was utterly silent now. No mutants. No hounds. No explosions. Just the quiet crackling of slow-burning fire in the building above her.  
  
Preston was nowhere to be seen.  
  
She called for him, of course; repeatedly, until her throat ached and her voice cracked. Eventually her wailing drew the interest of a passing feral, and it was then that whatever long-dormant survival instinct had compelled Alex to crawl out of her frozen tomb in Vault 111 surfaced again. Two bullets to the head and the ghoul was down – and Alex was on her feet, limping home with nothing to show for her expedition but heartache.  
  
She was the sole survivor. Again.


	2. Chapter 2

None of the Quincy refugees knew what to say when Alex hobbled back into Sanctuary alone. They took her in, of course, fussing over her wounded leg and showering her in RadAway packs. All of them wore that tight-eyed, solemn expression unique to this post-nuclear world. It wasn’t resignation, sorrow or fear, or even a mixture of the three. It communicated a feeling that Alex could not describe, and could not have comprehended from the safety and comfort of her life before the apocalypse. The emotion was of, for and from the Wastes. It was the death of a hope that no red-blooded wastelander truly believed could exist in the first place.  
  
Sturges was nattering about the difficulty of fixing people when Alex finally worked up the courage to explain. “Preston and I were caught in an explosion,” she said curtly. “He didn’t make it out.”  
  
They all faded away quickly after that. To grieve, presumably. Alex didn’t miss them. All she wanted was to sleep for an eternity. But as soon as they were gone, she broke down and cried. Thoughts of Preston wouldn’t leave her. The warmth of his eyes; his easy smile and hard-won laughter; his closely-held ideals and quiet confidence.   
  
What the fuck was wrong with her? She was meant to grieve like this for Nate – and Nate alone. True, losing Nate had taken chunks out of Alex’s soul. But now Preston was gone too – and God help her, it really felt as though he’d taken the rest of it with him.   
  
Exhausted as she was, Alex couldn’t sleep that night. She stared at the ceiling all night, listening to the distant braying of Trashcan Carla’s brahmin and wishing she was someone else. Someone who got to keep the people she loved, or at least someone with the strength to bear their absence.  
  
She’d settle for being someone smart enough to cut their losses at one dead lover.  
  
“I’m sorry,” Alex whispered. Her lips tasted like salt and her face felt puffy. She wasn’t sure if she was talking to Nate, Preston, or both.

The sun barely struggled over the horizon that morning, rising just high enough to dapple the wasteland with sickly grey light that made Alex’s eyes water and her skin tingle unpleasantly. Despite the discomfort, the daylight helped Alex feel calmer. She hadn’t yet broken her lingering lawyer’s habits, and masks of composure came easy to her. Routine was her defence against the settlers’ curious eyes and furtive whispers. She dressed, ate, fed Dogmeat and set to work in the vegetable garden, surrounding herself with silence.   
  
Her defences held until mid-morning, when Sturges approached bearing a yellowing scrap of paper. He lurked awkwardly at the fence line for a while, twiddling his thumbs. Alex hoped he might just go away if she ignored him for long enough.  
  
Sturges cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Erm, General?”  
  
He might as well have shot her. Alex paused in her work and squeezed her eyes shut.  
  
 _You don’t have to call me General, Preston. Alex is just fine.  
  
I want to call you by your rank, though. You’ve done so much for us. You deserve to have it recognised. _  
  
“Don’t call me General,” she snapped. She climbed to her feet resolutely, dusting off her hands on the back of her vault suit. “What’s the problem?” Sturges was obviously mortified. Under other circumstances, Alex’s brusqueness might have made her feel guilty, but for the moment she just didn’t have any room left in her for more regret.  
  
He cleared his throat again. “Er, uhm – new trader at the gate. Manifest here.” He waved the paper with an air of desperation. “Needs Minuteman approval.” The reluctance on his face told her what Sturges was too afraid to say.  _This is normally Preston’s job._  
  
Alex held back a sigh. “Give it here.” The world seemed to close in around her as she skimmed through the manifest with what she hoped looked like suitable attention. Stimpaks, water, some junk they could probably tear apart for building materials. Some food too, which was a relief. Meat that didn’t come from molerats was difficult to find out here.  
  
Alex glanced back up at Sturges and handed back the note. “Approved,” she muttered. She was eager to get back to her work. The monotonous, repetitive motions were therapeutic – almost like meditation. The world faded away as she worked and the ache in her chest was slowly enveloped in a warm fog of numbness.  
  
“Uhm, you need to come down and tell the guard to open the gate. He won’t take orders from me.”  
  
 _Jesus Christ_. It figured that bureaucracy would survive the very end of the world. “Fine,” she snapped. “And you’re fucking promoted. From now on, this is your job.”  
  
Sturges nodded meekly. He stayed nearly two paces behind her the whole way to the gate, probably afraid she would turn her pent up anger on him. Moments ago, Alex had been too wrung out to muster more than a bleak melancholy. Now she carried a tight ball of anger in her chest that felt hot enough to power a fusion reactor.  
  
The guard at the gate was overly polite, and the trader unmistakably annoyed at the delay. Minor crisis dealt with, Alex decided that a break would do her good. She headed down to the water – pistol in hand, of course – and sat on the bank, close enough to lose herself in the sounds of the river but far enough to keep her Geiger counter silent. As quickly as it had come, the anger was all gone.   
  
What was the use of anger out here, anyway? She could package up her anger and file it away along with most of her other feelings. Grief, weariness, compassion, and the flimsy scraps of joy that came her away were all useless in the wasteland. It seemed that fear was all that mattered, and the only thing that stood a chance at keeping someone alive. That had been Preston’s problem – and Nate’s as well, now that she thought on it. They didn’t know fear. They were both kind. Both brave. Doomed from the start, really.  
  
Alex must be a sucker for tragedy. She still loved them both with all of her bruised and broken soul.

Alex lay down on the damp grass and closed her eyes. She tipped her hat forward to shade her face and laced her fingers behind her head, enjoying the sensation of the grass tickling the back of her neck and drifting for a while in the quiet sound of the lapping water. She knew this was dangerous, but  _fuck it_. Lying here, with the real world locked away beyond the reach of her senses, Alex could pretend all of it was just a dream. She wasn’t quite unstable enough to  _believe_  that fantasy just yet. But God help her, she’d get there someday.  
  
At some point, Alex must have drifted off. She awoke to the sound of some sort of disturbance at the gate. There didn’t seem to be any shouting or screaming – or gunfire – so it mustn’t be urgent. If the settlers needed her, they’d come running. Alex had no doubt of that. She was disappointed, but not surprised, when the faint sound of approaching footsteps reached her. Alex waited until the last possible moment to lift her hat from her eyes. Just a few more moments of escape wouldn’t hurt anyone.   
  
The footsteps stopped beside her head. Alex sighed, uncovered her face, and froze. If she hadn’t already been lying down, she would have fallen over.


	3. Chapter 3

Preston Garvey was standing over her, smiling wryly. His duster was more than a little worse for wear, his broad-brimmed hat was missing, and the left side of his face was marred by some truly spectacular scabbing – but it was him: battered, exhausted, and  _alive_.  
  
It was a moment before Alex was able to speak. “Preston –“  
  
“Guess you really must’ve missed me, huh?” There was laughter in his voice, warm and sunny like the lakeshore in summertime. “Sorry to interrupt your nap, General.”  
  
A thousand voices were shouting over the top of each other in Alex’s head.  _Where have you been? What happened to you? Why didn’t you jump after I did? How the fuck did you survive that explosion?_  
  
Do you know how much I love you? Christ, can you see it on my face?  
  
But Alex held it together. Barely. “Fuck, it’s good to see you.”  
  
“Casual swearing means you’re okay then? That’s a relief.” Preston sat down beside her, and Alex quickly straightened up to throw her arms around his neck and bury her face in his shoulder. His old coat smelled like road dust, grease and a strange acerbic scent that Alex had come to associate with radiation exposure.   
  
“Really,” she murmured into the fabric. “Thank God you’re okay.” Her voice sounded high-pitched and strange.  
  
Preston’s shoulders stiffened at her touch, but something in him seemed to crumple at her words. “Hey,” he crooned, winding one arm around her waist and cradling the back of her head with the other. “It’s okay. I’m fine. We’re both fine.”  
  
“How are you still alive?” Alex pulled back slightly so that she could stare at his face. Gently, but perhaps impulsively, she reached up to caress his scabbed cheek. Preston stayed still as a statue. He tracked her movements with his eyes, at first, but they soon moved back to her face. Those beautiful dark eyes bored straight into her own, and Alex could swear he saw right to her core.  
  
“The suicider threw the nuke at you when you jumped.” Preston spoke slowly, softly, his eyelids slightly lowered. “He missed the gap in the wall, but I couldn’t follow you without getting blown to pieces. I fell through a hole in the floor, right through to the basement level. Knocked myself about pretty solidly, but the junk down there shielded me from the explosion.”  
  
Alex’s fingers stilled. “Jesus. Are you okay?”  
  
Preston grinned. “I am now. I was down for the count for a while though.”

Suddenly, Alex realised what she was doing, without even a hint of guilt: sitting almost in Preston’s lap, stroking his cheek, close enough that a strong wind could push her lips onto his. Or maybe a slight breeze. Or, fuck it, no breeze at all.  
  
So she did it. Alex leaned in, not giving herself time to change her mind, and captured his mouth with hers. It was a gentle kiss, at first, while she waited anxiously for him to push her away and put an end to the delusion that he might share her feelings. But Preston didn’t push her away. He returned the kiss eagerly. Passionately. The hand behind Alex’s head tangled in her hair and the one on her waist tightened its grip. His lips were dry but somehow still soft. When Alex opened her mouth, he sucked on her lower lip with a gentleness that made Alex both lightheaded and somehow...sad.  
  
Preston seemed to sense it. He released her, and Alex waited for the inevitable question. He seemed reluctant to ask, which she appreciated. He didn’t like to see her hurting – and she was always hurting when she talked about Nate.  
  
“What about your husband? Aren’t you... still in love with him?”  
  
“Yeah. I am.” There was hurt in  _his_  eyes now, and Alex hurried to explain. “I’ll always love Nate,” she said gently. She snatched up Preston’s hand and held it tightly as she spoke, trying to convey the truth of what she said with more than just words. “But he’s gone, and he’s never coming back. These past few days, when I thought you were dead too... I realised that none of that changes how I feel about you.”  
  
“How you feel about me?” Preston echoed. His hands were back at her waist, now, and Alex could think of nothing but how desperately she wanted to kiss him again. But she needed to make him understand.  
  
“I’m going to frighten you away when I say this,” she whispered. They were close again now – so close that she could feel his breath on her neck, and the way that it faltered when her gaze lingered on his lips.  
  
“I really doubt that.”  
  
“I’m in love with you,” Alex said softly. She spoke so quietly that the wind might have carried her words away had Preston not been so near. He let out a short, sudden breath that tickled her neck and made her hot and cold all over. A tiny flicker of insecurity lurking beneath her conscious mind stirred, repeating old doubts and old fears in the echo chamber of her skull, but then Preston’s lips brushed her ear and the delicious shiver that ran through her shook loose those withered old anxieties and burned them down to nothing.  
  
“God, I’m a lucky man. I love you too, babe. Have done for far too long.” Preston brought one hand up to her cheek and kissed her again. It was a harder, deeper kiss than the last, and Alex returned it eagerly, seizing the front of his coat in her fists. She took the opportunity to climb onto his lap properly, straddling his hips while she mapped out every curve and crack of his lips. His mouth was sweet and slightly tangy – nuka cola?  
  
Preston’s body was definitely responding. Alex could feel him stirring, and when she looked down the outline of his cock straining against his pants was obvious. Obvious, and fucking delightful. Alex couldn’t help but grin wickedly into Preston’s lips as she reach down to cup him through the fabric.  
  
Preston grunted in both desire and surprise. “Babe, the settlement’s right over the hill.”  
  
“So?” Alex was drunk on relief and passion, and her inhibitions were out the window. She dragged one finger slowly along the outline of his hardness and Preston drew a long, shuddering breath. His eyes were locked on hers, and it made Alex’s head spin.

Suddenly, he laughed. “All right.” He moved to undo his trousers, but Alex slapped his hand away and did it herself. She meant for it to be slow, to relish the faint  _snick snick snick_  of the zipper coming apart tooth by tooth and the sight of his cock slowly emerging, but adrenaline got the better of her. His erection sprang free and Alex bit her lip as she took it by the base. Preston grinned at her – with a hint of smugness – as she gave it one long, slow pump. The smile faded, his eyes fluttered closed and his mouth opened slightly when she began firm, regular strokes along the length of his shaft. Soon he was almost melting beneath her, head lolling backwards, sweat beading on his forehead.  
  
Alex leaned in to whisper in his ear. “You look so sexy right now.” Preston gave a little groan as she drew her hand up to the head of his cock and gently thumbed his slit, spreading glistening pre-come over the head and then down his length. He opened his eyes again with what seemed like some effort and reached for the collar of her vault suit.  
  
“You don’t look so bad yourself,” he murmured as he unzipped her suit. She stopped him at her navel, giggling like a school girl.  
  
“Sanctuary’s just over the hill!”  
  
Preston just hummed in response, slipping one hand inside her suit to palm her breast. Alex was straddling Preston’s thighs, one hand bracing herself on Preston’s chest and the other reaching down between them to handle his cock. Preston had one hand stretched out behind him to keep them both upright while his calloused fingers traced circles around her nipple. The position was a little awkward, and Alex was sure the arm Preston was using to brace them must be beginning to hurt, but they made it work. And Preston was  _talented_. She was so wet she wouldn’t be surprised if she was soaking through her suit. When he applied the edge of one blunt nail to her nipple and pressed  _just so_ , Alex gave a lusty moan so intense that it shocked her.  
  
“Jesus, babe,” Preston grunted. “I love that sound.”  
  
She chuckled somewhat breathlessly. Determined to get Preston making some sounds of his own, she slid her hand down his length to palm his balls, squeezing gently. Suddenly, he stopped his ministrations, withdrawing his hand from inside Alex’s suit and using it to remove Alex’s hand from his balls.  
  
“What’s wrong?” she asked. Even to her own ears, Alex sounded comically disappointed.  
  
“Nothing,” Preston replied. Cupping one hand behind Alex’s head, he drew her in for a kiss so deep it had Alex seeing stars. “But,” he murmured when they separated, “I don’t want our first time together to be a half-clothed outdoor hand job. Let’s go back to your place.”

Alex looked down at the hard, glistening cock protruding from Preston’s pants. She wanted to touch it again: with her fingers, her palms, her lips. But more than that, she wanted it _inside her_. Preston had almost died, for fuck’s sake. She wanted this to go all the way. She wanted it full-on, no-holds-barred. She wanted to feel Preston’s weight pushing her down into a mattress and his cock hitting that sweet spot inside her. She wanted to scream his name and clamp down on his hardness while she came – and she just couldn’t do that out here unless she was willing to let the whole of Sanctuary watch.  
  
While that might be fine in her fantasies, Alex wasn’t keen on an audience right now. “Okay,” she said, climbing off him with some regret and zipping up her suit. Half-curious, she dipped a hand between her legs to check. Yep. Soaked through. Preston had tucked his cock back inside his pants, but its outline was stark against the fabric and utterly obvious to anyone who might walk past. Giggling madly, Alex helped to adjust his coat until its fall (mostly) hid his raging erection. Another very hungry kiss and they were off, scurrying through Sanctuary’s streets as furtively as thieves. Unfortunately for Preston, Mama Murphy spotted him as they rounded the last corner on their route and, with a cry of shocked delight, went in for a hug. Only a last-moment interception by Alex saved the Minuteman a great deal of embarrassment. Alex thought Mama’s smile was rather too knowing as they hurried away.  
  
Alex had built a tiny cottage for herself by the river, just off the path from Sanctuary to Vault 111. She couldn’t bear to live in the house she once shared with Nate and Shaun, and though her new abode was little more than a shack, it at least didn’t have any holes in its walls. It had a proper door, as well, and Preston locked it behind them when they stumbled into Alex’s dwelling like two horny teenagers skipping prom to fuck.  
  
Preston’s coat and undershirt were off immediately, flung across the faded couch and quickly forgotten. They both kicked off their boots like they were filled with fire ants. Alex pushed Preston back against the door and kissed him hungrily, sucking hard on his bottom lip while her slightly unsteady hands fumbled with his zipper. Preston tangled one of his hands in her hair and broke the kiss to tug her head back and move his lips to her neck. This meant Alex couldn’t see his cock when it re-emerged from its prison, but she felt its hardness heavy in her hands and couldn’t contain a throaty whine of need.  
  
“There’s another sound I like,” Preston breathed into Alex’s neck. “Got any more?”  
  
“You bet,” Alex murmured. She was stroking his cock again, finishing each pull with a little twist when she approached the head. Preston hummed into her neck and squeezed her ass with his free hand. “Undress me and I’ll let you hear them all.”  
  
“Twist my arm, why don’t you?” Guiding Alex with his grip in her hair, Preston kicked his pants from around his ankles and backed her over to the mattress set up against the far wall of the shack. Alex’s digs weren’t glamorous, but right now she didn’t give a flying fuck. Preston stopped her at the edge of the mattress. Slowly -  _unbearably_  slowly – he used his free hand to unzip her vault suit. He freed her upper body first, helping her to shuck the heavy fabric from her shoulders. Alex didn’t wear a bra under her suit, finding the reinforced material to be more than enough support, and Preston made an appreciative sound at the sight of her nipples pebbling under his gaze. He paused in his task of undressing her to favour her breasts with close-mouthed kisses. It must have hurt his neck to crane over like that and maintain his grip on her hair, but he managed it. The almost-pain of having her hair pulled, the tautness of her exposed throat, the sensation of Preston’s lips fastened around one nipple and the liquid warmth pooling between her legs combined to drive Alex wild. She whined again, and Preston smiled against the mound of her breast.  
  
“Just like that, babe.” He paused. “Jesus, you’re beautiful.”

“Do I have to undress myself?” The languid pleasure in Alex’s voice made it clear enough that she wasn’t really annoyed. Her vault suit hung heavy on her hips, and she wondered whether she might be able to shimmy it off without disturbing Preston’s work.  
  
“Have a little patience.” Preston took the nipple he had been sucking and rolled it between his thumb and forefinger. The sensitive flesh felt icy cold without Preston’s warm tongue. He moved his lips to her other breast, sometimes kissing softly, sometimes sucking, sometimes grazing his teeth along her taut and quivering flesh. Preston untangled his other hand from her hair, and Alex felt a little pang of loss. He quickly slipped that hand inside her vault suit, however, sliding his palm over the curve of her ass, beneath her panties, and reaching far enough downwards for his fingers to graze the wetness between her legs.  
  
“Clothes. Off. Now,” Alex gasped. Preston laughed throatily and obeyed, withdrawing his hand and pulling both suit and panties off her hips. Alex caught them with her foot and kicked them across the room. Something heavy and metallic-sounding clattered to the floor. Alex didn’t care. “My turn.”  
  
Preston drew a sharp breath as she gently tugged her breasts out of his reach and dropped to her knees on the mattress. “Babe –“ He cut off and hissed when she took his weeping cock in hand and in one smooth movement drew her tongue up the underside of his shaft, all the way from base to tip.  
  
Alex paused to look up at him. He’d planted one hand against the wall. God, he looked so good from down here: all hard muscle, taut stomach and fat cock. Preston’s eyes were fixed on hers, and beads of sweat had broken out on his forehead and chest. “I’ve been dying to taste you,” Alex whispered luridly, letting her breath ghost across the head of his member. Preston shuddered in anticipation, and she fastened her lips around his shaft with a little hum of satisfaction.  
  
Alex had always been great at giving head, and it felt so good to watch the effect she had on him. She bobbed up and down on his cock slow, then fast, then slow again, using one hand to brace herself against his thigh and the other to stroke the base and play with his balls. Soon Preston had both hands braced against the wall, head hanging down to watch her work his cock. Feeling confident, Alex pressed forward to take him as deeply as she could, until her nose was almost touching his stomach and her eyes were beginning to water, the head butting up against the back of her throat. She swallowed.  
  
“Fuck,” Preston groaned. It was the first time Alex had heard him swear like that, and it filled her with smugness. She looked up at him through lowered lashes as she withdrew and swiped her tongue along his slit. Preston moaned so loudly that Alex was a little alarmed.  
  
“Shh,” she whispered, trying not to giggle again. “We should probably be quiet.”  
  
Preston blinked a little dazedly. “Lie down and we’ll see how quiet you can be.” The words sent lightning straight to Alex’s dripping cunt, and she dropped back onto the mattress with enthusiasm. Preston stayed upright for a moment, his gaze travelling down from her face to her breasts and coming to linger on the smattering of hair between her thighs. Then he was dropping down to lie next to her, balanced on his left side with his right foot hooked over hers. He pressed hard, demanding kisses on the crook between Alex’s neck and collarbone, pushing her thighs apart with calloused fingers. Those fingers then moved to her folds, testing her wetness. She gasped as he nipped the skin of her throat sharply before soothing it with his tongue. Distracted by the mark he was probably making on her neck, Alex was almost taken by surprise when Preston pushed one finger inside her.  
  
Alex moaned. Loudly. “Fuck.”  
  
“Being quiet, remember?”

Alex nodded mutely. She pressed her lips together as Preston pumped his finger slowly in and out. His fingers were thick, and she was wet enough that even that small movement made an obscene squelching noise. Alex’s cheeks burned, but Preston grunted appreciatively into the hollow of her throat.   
  
He kept his voice low when he spoke. “Just knowing that you want me, babe…” All the while, his finger pumped back and forth. At the deepest point of each thrust, Preston would crook his finger before drawing back out. Alex could feel a tight ball of pleasure building deep within her, and her skin felt like it was on fire.  
  
Alex knew that if she opened her mouth again she’d be a moaning, mewling mess. Her breathing hitched when Preston twisted in order to graze her clit with his thumb. He applied a gentle pressure there at first, slowly building, then tracing tiny circles on her swollen nub. Staying quiet was becoming incredibly difficult. He added a second finger and began to pump faster. Almost unconsciously, Alex spread her thighs wider, thrusting her hips upward for more friction. She had to bite her wrist to stop herself from crying out in pleasure.  
  
Preston’s lips grazed her ear. “That’s it, babe. Let me see what you look like when you come.”  
  
And Alex did come, sensations piling up on each other until her mind shattered beneath them. Fire spread outwards from her belly as she felt her walls clenching around Preston’s fingers, her body curling in upon itself as she whimpered into her wrist. Preston worked her through it, fingers crooked, thumb tapping on her clit, just enough to keep her going without overstimulating her. It seemed to last forever.  
  
“Christ,” Alex murmured when her orgasm had finally run its course. “ _Fuck_ … I – Jesus.”  
  
Preston chuckled, withdrawing his fingers from her cunt and resting his hand on the inside of her thigh. “Glad you enjoyed it.”   
  
It was possessive, that movement. Alex knew it well, just like she knew that she was not nearly finished with fucking Preston Garvey. She craned her neck to kiss him, slow and deep, then pulled his fingers up to her lips. She paused for a moment, lips pressed to his fingertips, watching him devour her with his eyes. Those eyes were dark. His pupils were dilated, his lips slightly open. Alex sucked his fingers into her mouth with a lusty moan, tasting herself and relishing the groan she dragged from him.  
  
Jesus, she was so glad he’d come back to her. “I think you should fuck me now,” Alex whispered.  
  
Preston was grinning as he settled between her legs, but his eyes radiated heat like molten steel. “Yeah. That sounds like a really, really good idea.” He kissed her deeply, nipping at Alex’s lower lip, setting her skin on fire all over again. Just having him on top of her, feeling his weight pressing her down into the mattress… Alex was desperate to have him inside her. She rolled her hips against his thigh, moaning quietly, and Preston let out a sharp breath as he seized her hip to hold her still. He positioned himself at her entrance, his cock just barely within her folds – and paused.  
  
In that moment, Alex felt like the force of her heartbeat might break her apart from within. Time just  _ended_ , stretching out into infinity as she waited for that first thrust.  
  
She cried out as he entered her in one smooth motion, clutching him to her with shaky hands and gasping. There was no way she was going to be quiet. Preston groaned, rolling his hips in an agonisingly slow circle as he waited for her to adjust. Alex’s eyes were screwed shut, her forehead pressed into his shoulder. Every touch felt harder, hotter than was normal. She could feel Preston’s cock filling her, stretching her; feel his breathing hot and moist on her neck; feel his shoulders heaving under her hands. Her every other sense seemed dull and unimportant, until Preston whispered in her ear and sent electricity crackling through her like a nuclear storm.

“Tell me again how you feel about me,” he whispered. His voice was syrupy with desire and tense with the effort of keeping motionless inside her.  
  
Alex almost whined, scraping blunt nails down his spine and canting her hips to beckon him deeper. It was hard to form a complete sentence. “I love you,” she gasped. “I fucking  _love you_.”  
  
The little sigh Alex felt against her sweaty neck was at once sweetly vulnerable and insanely hot. She cried out again as Preston pulled back, then immediately thrust forward again, completely sheathing himself within her. Then he was  _really_  fucking her: slamming into her hard, fast and demanding. Alex clung to his shoulders, urging him on with little moans and gasps. God, he felt so good. Preston briefly slowed, and Alex worried he was going to stop – but he only snuck a hand beneath her hips and lifted her up slightly to adjust the angle of his thrusts. The new position completely changed Alex’s idea of what good sex was – his cock was hitting a spot deep within her that set off starbursts behind her eyes, and she was dimly aware that she was crying out in rapture, but she couldn’t think of anything beyond the sparks of white-hot pleasure springing to life inside her.  
  
Preston’s breathing was becoming laboured and his thrusts erratic. “I’m close,” he grunted. Alex was already there. She screamed out his name as her insides clamped down on his cock, letting her head drop back against the mattress. Preston swore loudly. He shuddered and came, his cock twitching as it filled her with warmth. Alex moaned in delight, holding him tight against her. It was crazy – but God, she wished she could somehow have him even closer.  
  
“Yes, yes, yes,” she chanted. She made a point of lifting his lolling head as he came down from his high, kissing him with all the vigour her wobbly limbs could manage. His forehead pressed to hers, his cock softening inside her, Preston chuckled somewhat sheepishly.  
  
“Jesus,” he murmured. He rolled off her with a sigh, and Alex mourned the sudden emptiness between her legs. “Was that as good for you as it was for me?”   
  
“And then some,” Alex breathed. She lifted up one arm and let it dangle limply in the air before letting it fall back onto her stomach with a  _thwack_. “I don’t think I can stand up.”   
  
Preston laughed heartily, winding one arm over her shoulders so that she could rest her head on his bicep. Alex kissed it before resting her cheek there. She felt relaxed for the first time in weeks; safe for the first time since the bombs fell. His skin was warm against her cheek and his heartbeat fast but steady beneath her palm. He was so alive.  
  
“This feels so unreal,” Preston whispered. He brought up a hand to stroke Alex’s cheek, looking at her with something like wonder. “How did I get so lucky?”  
  
Alex closed her hand atop his. She was full of feelings she couldn’t articulate.  _Love_  seemed too simple a word.  _Longing_  seemed too sad, and  _contentment_  seemed too much like complacency. Whatever it was, she hoped Preston could see it in her eyes. “Keep doing what you’ve been doing, I guess. But no more near-death experiences, got it?”  
  
He actually chuckled, damn him. “Understood, General.”


End file.
